


You Promised

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, Blood, Domestic, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Marking, Past Relationship(s), Promises, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-10-26 06:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: Excerpt:[In his eyes, the wolf holds tragedy and betrayal, looking up to the cause of his pain, and in the moonlight, he looks so handsome, his lips swollen and red. The shadows outline the youthful crinkles around his eyes.Beautiful,Chris thinks, exhaling in wonder."I love you," he finally says, "I'll always love you. I'll always want to come back to you."][DO NOT REPOST/REUSE  MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION]





	1. Chapter 1

Chris grunts in pain when his back slams against the hard trunk of a tree, and he is held up against his will, his toes barely touching the ground, by a wolf three years younger and several inches shorter than him. He's half naked, his pants and boxers a yard away, and only a plain white shirt saves him from being entirely exposed in the woods. 

Peter, the youngest Hale of the older generation, presses them together with a thigh between Chris's parted legs, eyes glowing blue. He's young, almost just still a kid, but he's strong, his thin yet muscular arms wrapped around the older teen's waist. Tears streak his face as he growls, baring sharp, white teeth. 

"You can't do this," the wolf says, tightening his hold with his fingers and threatening to peirce through the skin on Chris's back. "You're  _mine_ , you said, Christopher." 

Chris exhales, his eyebrows furrowed as he leans down to press their foreheads together, and he's crying too. 

It was a coincidence how they met, when the Argents moved to Beacon Hills. Chris entered Beacon High as a senior, and the first person he befriended was a freaking werewolf, a Hale no less. They didn't even know until a few days later, but by then, Peter was besought and Chris couldn't say no to those soft, puppy eyes. They kept it a secret, as much as they could. As long as his dad never found out and Peter covered their scent, no one would be none the wiser. 

They're two semesters in, and Chris is pretty sure he's in love. But he's being sent away, his dad found him a nice hunter girl to settle down with. It's expected of him to continue the Argent line, and wise, powerful women have always led. Chris had already met her twice, her name's Victoria.  _Victory_.

She's Gerard's greatest victory over Chris. 

"I'm sorry," Chris whispers. " _He knows_. He'll kill you."

The blue in Peter's eyes darken like clouds covering the moon. " _I'll kill him_ ," he says, his words trembling under his skin. 

"He's my dad, you can't. Don't be stupid. The rest of them will come after you, it's Code." 

"I'll kill them too."

Chris bites his lips, shaking his head. "I already proposed, Peter. I'm leaving once I graduate, I'm not coming back." The older teen flinches when he feels the claws at his back scrape thinly into his skin, taking deep breaths to keep himself calm as his heart thunders in his chest.

Peter lets out a hurt wail, falling to his knees to bury his face against Chris's stomach, holding onto the other like a lifeline. " _Mine_ ," the wolf says, bitterness dripping down his throat, "you're ripping my heart out, Christopher." 

Chris lets out a wet chuckle. "I have to, Peter," he replies, leaning his head against the tree and blinking away tears. He lets his hands linger at his sides. "I'm sorry."

"I won't let you do this, we'll run away together. I have money and a car." 

"And leave your family behind, Peter? He'll come after them. An Argent and a Hale, missing? He'll use it as an excuse to start a hunt in Beacon Hill. You can't. Don't hurt your family just for me. You know I can't live with that. Don't do that to me."

"Don't do  _this_ to me!" 

Chris sighs, thinking that freshmen don't think too much about the future. They have the rest of their lives ahead of them, and this is where they part. They have to.

"Peter, look at me," he says softly, looking back down and lifting his hands to push Peter away from his stomach. The younger boy doesn't resist, nuzzling almost pitifully against his hands. 

In his eyes, the wolf holds tragedy and betrayal, looking up to the cause of his pain, and in the moonlight, he looks so handsome, his lips swollen and red. The shadows outline the youthful crinkles around his eyes.  _Beautiful_ , Chris thinks, exhaling in wonder. 

"I love you," he finally says, "I'll always love you. I'll always want to come back to you."

Peter is caught by surprise. The pupil of his eyes dilates, and the glow dims in a softer shade. 

"I love you," the wolf replies, breathless as if he's seeing the last day of the world. "Promise me, Christopher. I'll let you go this time, but promise me, if anything were to happen and you are alone, you'll be mine and only mine again. You  _will_ come back to me, or I'll hunt you down and kill you myself." 

Chris huffs, smacking the younger teen for being so freaking daring. And  _stupid_. That could take a whole lifetime, and the damn kid's pretty much saying he'd be willing to wait it out. "Are you stupid?" he asks, incredulously. "You're fifteen, you don't know what you're asking." 

" _Promise me_."

The glow in Peter's eyes fades away fully, revealing his natural blues, looking so hopefully like a puppy on his knees, begging to be loved. Chris hesitates, knowing that he should say no, that he should push the boy away, put on his pants and boxers, and go home. There's a new life waiting for him at the end of the semester, six weeks away, and that's going to be goodbye. Forever. 

But Chris has never been good at saying no, not to those eyes, not to Peter. 

He lets out a sigh, nodding his head. This was a war he didn't particularly want to win. Peter's only fifteen, maybe he'll forget one day, when he falls in love with someone else. 

"Say it," Peter urges, snarling with teeth. 

Chris pats the other boy on his cheek, holding up Peter's gaze. "I promise, Peter," he whispers, using his free hand to wipe the tears off his face. "I'll come back to you." 

Peter whines in defeat, and he nuzzles his nose against Chris' left inner thigh.

The older teen moans, wondering how quickly his words were accepted, but he's distracted when Peter presses his lips against his skin. He'd forgotten that they were in a middle of a make-out session because they're both horny teenager. Chris tried to get it over and done with tonight, but Peter lunged at him the moment they saw each other. 

"One last time, make it count," Chris tries to joke because he wishes it wasn't. They'll have one last memory together, he'll let Peter do whatever he wants.

Peter snarls, mouthing at his thigh now as he lifts Chris' leg up by the knees, devilishly close to his rising erection. 

"Come on," Chris urges, knowing he'll miss this a lot. "Pet—"

His words cut off with a scream, Peter's sharp teeth sinking into his flesh. If he was simply crying before, Chris is sobbing now, the pain of the bite shooting up his spine and into his mind like poison. He screams again, a little louder, when the teeth sink just a little deeper, unable to do anything but hold on for his life with his hands in Peter's hair. He grips the wolf tight, trying to pull the other away only to fail. 

Chris is sure he passed out for  a second when the pain finally recedes, a wet tongue licking him. He looks down and see specks of blood on his thigh and on Peter's chin and mouth, the wound sealing quickly before his eyes. There, on his skin, is a fresh scar, the mark of a wolf's bite. 

"You fucking asshole," he breathes out, shaking from the cold and memory. 

"You're mine," Peter says softly, exhaling out a whine, "you can't be with me right now, but you'll always belong with me. And I'm yours."

"Damn kid. Kiss me already."


	2. Chapter 2

_Seven months._

It's been seven months since she died, since she killed herself because she'd rather be human and dead than a werewolf and alive. It was a matter of pride, but he wishes she didn't. Allison lost a mother, and he lost his wife. 

He hates that he let her, and he hates it even more than he helped her. 

He mourned, he'll probably mourn forever, but life goes on. His daughter is doing well, he believes, about grieving. It helps to have so many people who cares and loves you, doing everything they could to comfort you. It was like there was always someone from the pack in the house every other day, mostly Scott but not always. 

A month after the funeral, they moved out of the house (too big, too many memories) and into an apartment closer to the high school. It took only a week because they just had so much help, and things have been quiet, no other hunters, no supernatural threat. Just quiet. 

So when Allison finally accepted an invite to stay over one weekend at the rebuilt Hale house with the rest of the pack, Chris watches TV, even though he rarely watches anything. The living room of the apartment is smaller, much closer to the kitchen. He sits the couch in front of the sizable screen, and he just looks. He tries not to glance over to the empty space next to him, and he fails. He fails many time, the sound of the TV becoming white noise as he openly stares. 

That's probably why it took him much longer to notice that someone had entered the apartment, standing only a few feet away between Chris and the TV. A small draft comes in through the opened window. 

The hunter reaches down for the dagger hidden underneath the couch, a natural reaction trained into his skull, but he stops when he realizes who is standing there. 

"Hale," he says, calming down. He leaves the dagger. "What are you doing here? Does the pack need help? Is Allison okay?" 

"Everyone's fine," Peter replies, eyes not looking away from Chris. There's a smirk on his lips, but it's forced. "I'm here to collect on your promise, Christopher."

Chris feels a flare of anger, thinking how insensitive the other man is being, but then he thinks, "You remembered? You acted like you didn't even know me." 

"The Christopher I know and love belongs only to me, you were still married. You came back to rub it in my face." 

"I didn't, and I'm not who I was before. Things have changed."

Peter's smirk falls easily, his eyes glowing even the light. Chris should've felt the urge to run,  _danger_ , but he doesn't, catching himself thinking just how handsome the other man is, still is.  _Beautiful_.

"You're still mine, Christopher," Peter says, stepping closer until he could lean over the hunter. He places his hands on either sides of Chris's head, staring down with a growl. "You were supposed to come back to _me_ , not the other way around."

"My wife is dead," Chris replies, staring back. He hears his heart beating in his ears and sees the tears he's holding back. "Did you expect me to forget about her immediately? I loved her, Peter."

Peter's expression softens with pity, reaching a hand to hold Chris by the chin. He kneels a knee between Chris's legs. "She was a strong woman. You loved her so I patiently waited these past months for you, but you're looking at ghosts. I will not lose you again, especially not to something that isn't even alive. I've lost time and I've died, and no doubt that I'll go through that again. But I will not let you go a second time, Christopher. Not while you're still breathing."

Chris doesn't pull away, his eyes looking up. "I'm not going with you."

Peter just leans down closer, tipping Chris's face up. "Then I'll stay with you. You are mine, and I am yours." 

He is gentle when they kiss, merely pressing their lips together to touch, and Chris chokes out a sob, knowing that he'd missed this. Guilt struck him at the thought of Victoria, missing her touch and voice. Peter presses closer, the warmth of his body seeping in like lava. 

Chris moans, inviting Peter to kiss him even more, and Peter takes it, holding Chris by the hips with thin, strong arms. 

The hunter doesn't remember what happens next after that, chasing after the feelings from decades away, but he finds himself on his bed, being stripped of his clothes. He watches embarrassedly as Peter sheds his. He's not ready, his heart is still shattered. 

"Pe—"

He is flipped over on his stomach, a firm hand on the flat of his back, and his breath stutters when he feels a hot, wet breath on the base of his neck when his neck and right shoulder met. Chris grips his pillow, gasping at the threat of sharp teeth on his skin. 

" _Mine_ ," Peter says as a warning before he sinks his teeth into Chris's skin, inciting a choked scream as the other man's body tenses in fear and pain.

The scent and taste of blood reaches Chris, warm hands caressing his back in comfort, and then there is that second layer, a deeper marking that set his body on fire. He screams a second time, tears falling freely on his face. 

Chris's breathing is labored when the pain recedes like a slow tide, Peter licking away at the wound. He doesn't need to see it to know what it looks like.

" _Mine_ ," Peter growls, pleased, and Chris is flipped to his side, an arm around his waist as a hand touches at the scar on his inner thigh. The wolf traces it carefully, reexamining the mark he left all those years ago as he continues to kiss the one he just made.

Chris shivers, falling slack as relief settles in. He doesn't understand it, but for the first time in months, he doesn't feel alone.

He'd been married over twenty years, Victoria a dutiful and wonderful wife. They'd their issues, but they stayed together. They learned to love each other as friends, as husband and wife. He'd give up his own life if it meant she could live again. He loves her, he mourns for her, he yearns for her. 

The sense of relief doesn't mean Peter is replacing her. Victoria forever has a place in Chris' heart and mind. This relief, instead, is finally coming back to the one he was in loved with before. It's like coming home, and Chris had missed so dearly that boy he loved. A part of him went with Victoria to the grave, never to be returned, but now, lying on this bed with this man, he's reunited with another piece of himself, never coming back whole but slowly fixing himself in other places. 

"Mine," Chris says, heart bursting in tears. He holds the hand at his waist and squeezes.

Peter whines, tension releases. " _Yours_ ," he whispers back, pulling them closer. 

* * *

Chris doesn't remember when he fell asleep, but he wakes warm, a comforting body curled up behind him. 

He wants to get up and take a shower, he wants to make breakfast and eat, but he doesn't move, the sun barely rising through the window. He wants to stay like this a little longer because he's scared he's going to lose this moment. 

The hunter is pulled out his thoughts when a pair of lips kisses his shoulder.

"Good morning, Christopher," Peter says lazily. 

"Morning," Chris replies. 

Peter hums contently, moving to lay Chris on his back and get between the hunter's legs. He leans in, and Chris finds himself placing his arms around Peter's shoulders as they kiss, gentle and slow, nothing like when they were young. But then Peter wraps his hands around their cocks, jerking them off. Chris moans out of embarrassment and pleasure, kissing harder as he reaches climax. Their cum stains both their chests.

Now up, they clean up and take a shower together, and afterwards, they get started on breakfast. Chris is suddenly too aware by how natural they were, as if they had done this a thousand times before, but he doesn't say it out loud. When they sit, they talk, and Chris is gently surprised when he smiles and laughs, catching the soft look on Peter's face as they look at each other. 

"Let's get married one day," Peter says as they wash the dishes. "When you're ready."

"The teeth marks aren't enough?" Chris asks, lightly joking but curious. 

"I was fifteen when I was sure I wanted to marry you. I still do. I want to show everyone, humans included, that you're mine." 

Chris huffs a laugh. "Aren't you legally dead?" 

"Nothing that can't be fixed. The law doesn't know what happened after I died the first time. Call in a few connections, and Peter Hale is alive again."

"And cause an uproar."

Peter grins. "Haven't lost my flare for the dramatic." 

"I'm not surprised. I'm not sure how Allison will take all this, her mother . . . it hasn't been that long since . . . She needs to know."

"Of course. Derek already does, and your scent now will tell the rest of the pack. I'll be a good stepfather."

Chris raises an eyebrow. "I didn't agree to it yet."

Peter stops, humming with humor. He wipes his hands dry with a dish rag before pulling Chris away from the sink, pushing the hunter up against the wall. "Still so stubborn," he says, breath hot against the other's ear, "but patience is one of my best qualities. I can take my time to persuade you." 

Chris's heart skips a beat. Instead of answering, he pulls Peter by the hair and kisses him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might continue.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work(s), please check out [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/kappachyun?s=09).


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